Almost
by Emmanuel Park
Summary: "Happiness is a sweet lie, and love is a cruel mistress." Before, Angelina was so close of attaining her own happiness and settle down with the man who truly loved her.


**Almost**

She wondered how it all came to this.

Angelina would reminisce the first conversations they have exchanged on the party hosted by one of the nobles she acquainted with in the last ball, as she carried her well-known alias as "Madam Red." Meeting him, the Lord Burnett, was the most intriguing man out of all the fellow bachelors she had met and danced with on that night. They all bored her with their generic lines and business talk, following a disinterest to make any sort of connection with any of them. For Lord Burnett, however, it soon escalated from frequent meetings to courtship, but she refused at his initial attempts all because her love for "that man" was nowhere near to crumble down.

She was supposed to break that intimate bond Angelina held so dear. He had Rachel, he had Ciel, he never had her, nor will he ever turn his back for _her_.

As the clock ticks closer to the tenth hour and the leaves transition from green to a withering yellow, she had come to find a certain trait of his most endearing. It was the truth in his eyes and came out of his words that he could never seem to hide. His statements were always uttered without pretence and were easy to understand despite her blind love for another man, for the man who taught her to love the colour she used to despise with every fibre of her being.

"I wouldn't mind," was the answer she did not expect to hear, "as long as I could be with you, stay with you, I wouldn't mind. Even if . . . ," he paused to smile at her. The smile he had always worn for her alone; the smile that nearly broke her heart along with a feeling she couldn't distinguish, ". . . you would prefer someone else."

He was full of surprises, and she adored every one of them.

* * *

When the doctor confirmed there were signs of life within her stomach, she felt all sorts of contradiction — joy, fear, anxiety with wild anticipation. After all, it was like a genie had granted her long-time wish: a family of her own. The thought of that fact alone couldn't let her resist the bliss reaching the corners of her lips. She could never complete the family without him, he had a permanent spot in the picture, and the woman couldn't think of anyone else to take his place.

How she dreamed of the day their future child play with Ciel and Elizabeth as they frolic through the gardens. Tiny, chubby hands reaching out to a butterfly or to one another; would it be a boy or a girl? The question excited her husband the most — even more than her, she had to admit.

He truly loved her without question, without hesitation, and that was as clear as day, yet she couldn't do the same for him.

But perhaps it was time.

* * *

"Our child will look lovely in red," he'd said to Angelina as he stared at the same red dress she wore on the night of the ball, the first night they had met. It was a short-sleeved dress painted in red with dark gloves and a thin choker. It was also the first night she felt the trust she can give him any time whenever she wished. For some reason, seeing the colour made her smile of nostalgia and an appreciation of its own beauty.

They sat together in his study after a day of work and visiting Ciel with Angeline noting that the boy was growing fast. He truly took after both of Rachel and Vincent, but she could see her sister in him within the bright blue depths of his eyes.

"But of course," Angelina replied and allowed a hint of pride flow through her short words, "when they'll take after your chivalry, it is a certainty they'll be quite a sight to behold."

A familiar chuckle rang in her ears, and she, too, followed the same.

"If it is all right, let's have a stroll," he said and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sure a visit to the park would be a nice break for the lady."

"I can't argue with that." The faintest of smiles curled over her mouth. "It is an offer I can't refuse."

Resting her chin on the arm to embrace her frame, Angelina leaned her head close to his chest and allowed the rhythmic beat of his heart lulled her to sleep while she was unaware of things such as the panicked neighing of horses, a blood-curdling shriek, and the crimson red she had almost loved drip over her husband's head to taint the concrete grounds and following a small, soulless body in the doctor's hands.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Look at me, I'm shamelessly trashposting. See? See?_

 _Practice writing, practice . . . might come back to revise this some day . . . might regret this some day . . . ha, ha, ha. Any suggestions for improvement is absolutely welcome._


End file.
